


qriosity killed the cat (but satisfation brought it back)

by bitribbles



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, But not everyone has one, Drunkenness, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, but not picard he just has to deal with conspiracy theory riker, it's just that even the universe is telling them to get it together, it's like pretty rare, picard dies only briefly but no worries his omnipotent deity can fix that, their personalities are the same
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26463148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitribbles/pseuds/bitribbles
Summary: [I'm 100% done! I might make some minor changes here and there, but it's officially finished!]In this universe, very rarely, you will be assigned a soulmate when you turn 18. The words on your wrists are the first words you'll hear from them.One day, Picard wakes up to find averyunique sentence on his wrist. He has no idea what it means.Until he does, and his world gets turned upside-down.Or alternatively, the one where Q pines like an idiot and Picard's in denial even though the whole universe is telling them to get it together.
Relationships: Jean-Luc Picard/Q
Comments: 24
Kudos: 104





	qriosity killed the cat (but satisfation brought it back)

**Author's Note:**

> i'm a hopeless romantic, y'all. i think that's why i like these two so much.
> 
> come scream about these two with me on tumblr @ bitribbles! :)

Jean-Luc Picard had woken up on his 18th birthday with a sense of indifference.

He didn't expect to be assigned a soulmate. It happened quite rarely.

But when he pulled back his wrist, he found something scrawled on his wrist.

 _"Thou art notified that thy kind hath infiltrated the galaxy too far already,"_ he read. "What kind of rubbish...? No one speaks like that."

And so he decided to ignore it, and made his way through Starfleet Academy without giving it much thought or letting it influence his choices. But it still nagged at him from time to time.

* * *

Picard had been given captaincy of the flagship of the Federation. He was quite excited for the opportunity, but mentally chastised himself whenever he started to grin. _You're a starship captain, Jean-Luc,_ he told himself. _You cannot act like a giddy teenager._

Nevertheless, he was looking forward to their first voyage. The last thing Picard had on his mind was his soulmate.

He was much more preoccupied with the predicament he was facing now on the bridge. 

The ship slowly came to a halt in front of the force field.

"Now reading full stop," Ensign Torres said.

Picard stared at the undulating web surrounding them, trying to think his way out of it.

Suddenly, a flash of light appeared out of the corner of his eye. Picard whipped around in his seat and stood quickly. A being dressed as a Grand Inquisitor appeared, glaring. Then they spoke.

"Thou art notified that thy kind have infiltrated the galaxy too far already. Thou art directed to return to thine own solar system immediately."

Picard studied the being. Their words had rung a bell in his head-- perhaps déjà vu? He shook it off. The entire human race could be at stake. No need to mull over some faint connection.

"That's quite a directive," Picard replied slowly. "Would you mind identifying what you are?"

If Picard didn't know better, he would've thought that the entity looked taken aback. But if they had, they recovered quickly. "We call ourselves the Q. Or thou mayest call me that." They strode around the bridge. "It's all much the same thing."

Picard was considering this when the turbolift doors slid open with two crewmembers inside. With one glance from the Q, a barrier formed and the doors slammed shut.

 _This is going to be difficult to escape,_ though Picard, and ignored the idea that he'd heard all this somewhere before.

* * *

Finally, they'd solved the puzzle, and Q had left.

Only after the ordeal with Q's test did Picard allow his mind to wander back to those first words. Restless, he lay awake in bed. He rolled over, thinking, then huffed. After this stressful mission, he highly doubted he would sleep well tonight. Might as well try to sate his curiosity.

"Lights," he grumbled. He stumbled over to the replicator. "Earl Grey. Hot," he barked, and he retrieved his PADD from his desk, rubbing his eyes. For some reason he couldn't get Q's first words out of his mind.

 _What was so special about them?_ he wondered. _Could it have been a Shakespeare reference?_ He searched through transcripts of old plays. Nothing.

 _Maybe not,_ he thought, and ran the quote through the entire ship's database. No results.

Picard's brows furrowed. _I give up,_ he thought, and reluctantly went back to bed. Unfortunately for him, the quote taunted him as he lay restlessly, like a puzzle that he desperately wanted to solve.

 _"Thou art notified that thy kind have infiltrated the galaxy too far already,"_ he muttered. “I _have_ heard that before. But where?”

He lay there for what felt like an eternity before he started to feel drowsy.

And then the realization hit him, making his blood run cold. 

”No. No, no, no.” Filled with dread, Picard sat up and slowly pulled back his sleeve. The answer had been staring at him the whole time. _Q? Out of all the people in the universe..._

”.. _.he's_ my soulmate?” Picard said out loud angrily. “That arrogant, obnoxious, self-righteous, amoral, pathetic excuse for a god? I won’t allow it! Never!”

* * *

Picard eventually encountered Q a few more times. He'd appear with the intention of messing with his crew as a "test", then leave. Through inaction, Q had let several crewmembers die at the hands of the Borg.

Picard had no respect for anyone who had such little regard for his crew, he swore. Q was his mortal enemy, his antithesis, and he ignored the words on his wrists that said otherwise.

Unfortunately for Picard, fate does not let itself be ignored.

* * *

Picard was, quite simply, at a party he didn’t want to be at.

His first officer was flirting with a crewmember, everyone was drunk out of their minds, save him and Data, and worst of all, Q had turned up at some point.

”I think you’re going to be too hungover tomorrow to perform your duties,” said Picard, as he tugged free of Riker’s grip.

“Aw, don’t ruin the fun like that.” Riker giggled as he set down his drink, which slopped over the sides of its cup. He turned to some crewman who'd been talking to him for the past half hour.

”So, Ensign,” he slurred. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

”Well, I guess I should. They exist among all sentient beings,” he said.

Riker snorted. “Personally, I think they’re made up by the government.”

The ensign frowned. “What government? The Federation?”

”Duh. Have _you_ ever met someone who’s had a soulmate? No? I thought so. They’re. Made. Up. Ha!”

Then Q popped over. “What are we talking about over here?”

Riker was too drunk to recognize him. “We’re talking about soulmates, duh.”

Q looked at Picard, who was pointedly looking away. Unfortunately, Riker followed Q’s gaze and grinned. "Ah, Captain! What do _you_ think of soulmates?”

Picard pressed his lips together. “I don’t believe in them.”

He was immediately greeted with a bear hug from Riker. “One of us! One of us! I take it you don’t have one, then?”

“I unfortunately do,” Picard gritted out, and Riker's face fell. “That’s precisely why I don’t believe it.”

And with that, he ducked under Riker’s arm and left, Q staring at him.

* * *

Picard tried his best to not think about soulmates for the next few weeks. Life as a starship captain was busy enough. As if he needed to worry about some intangible idea for hopeless romantics.

And so, he buried himself in his work, reviewing treaties and negotiations and reports. It was dull, but it kept him from speculating on things that he _absolutely_ did not believe in. Because it could never work. _And_ because he hated Q. 

So, hard at work it was, and thinking about anything else was off-limits.

Sadly for him, not even being a workaholic can stop fate.

* * *

Picard had beamed down to the surface of Zeta Antini V to negotiate trade tariffs. It had turned sour, and so, Picard was currently being held hostage.

"Give us your dilithium crystals, and you'll be on your way, Picard," said an Antinian. He pointed some sort of weapon at Picard's head.

He leaned away. "I've told you. I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Why not?" 

"They power our ship."

"Then give us your ship, then!" the Antinian sneered at him.

Picard sighed in reply. _Round and round we go._ "I can't give you my ship."

The Antinian had opened his mouth to reply when a bright light appeared in front of him, and someone appeared.

"Well, _mon capitaine_ , this is certainly an interesting position to find you in." Q crossed his arms, his expression unreadable.

Picard sighed. _Oh, just what I needed._ "Come to laugh, Q?" he said.

Q raised his hands in surrender. "Oh, not at all, actually. I was wondering if you needed help."

"Forgive me, Q, but I don't trust you," Picard said. "Besides, I'm not your damsel in distress to rescue. I don't need you."

"You _want_ to stay here?" Q asked indignantly.

The Antinians were watching this exchange with a horrified expression, swiveling their heads like they were at a tennis match. Then one of them spoke up.

"You... you are _acquainted_ with the Q?" one of them asked Picard apprehensively.

Picard looked at it, then at Q. "No. I mean, yes. I mean—"

Q stepped forward and raised his hand, a confident smile on his face. "Now, let's not cause a conflict here. My _good friend_ here has asked you to let him leave. I suggest you do so." Q raised his eyebrows at them, and they nodded frantically.

Within the next few seconds, Picard was beamed back aboard his ship.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Q leaned against the wall.

"You lied to them," retorted Picard.

Q waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah. And now they'll take any offer you give them for as long as the Federation exists."

Picard bristled. "Compared to diplomacy, intimidation is hardly—"

"You must admit that sometimes, intimidation works. How were you going to talk your way out of that one?"

A silence. "...Fine," Picard admitted begrudgingly. "Maybe you were right. _Now_ could you leave?"

Q pouted. "Not going to even give your _soulmate_ a kiss on the cheek?"

"No."

"Alright, alright. _Au revoir."_ And with that, he vanished with a flash.

Impulsively, Picard shouted, "Wait, Q!" 

Q appeared again, grinning. "Gonna take me up on that kiss?"

Picard suppressed the blush crawling up his neck. " _No._ I just wanted to say... thank you, Q."

"I'm always at your service, Jean-Luc. Sometimes you should shelve your pride and _let me help_."

And he vanished again, leaving Picard feeling affronted. "I don't want your help," he muttered.

* * *

Then it happened again.

It was a second-contact mission. They'd already established friendly relations with the Talathians about 2 months ago. He'd expected to fill out some more paperwork and learn about their unique culture.

He certainly hadn't expected an energy blast to his lower abdomen.

He felt the world fade away as he closed his eyes, with no idea if he was dead or alive. He felt like he was floating. Hopefully it was something Beverly could fix. He didn't want to die just yet.

Then something lightly touched his shoulder.

"Am I dead?" he said out loud.

"Not how you humans imagine death," said a voice.

"Q!" Picard whipped around, glaring. "I should've known this was your doing."

"Not quite," said Q, his voice suddenly softer. "I had nothing to do with your injury. I just simply noticed your mortal consciousness slipping away from your dimension, so I brought you here."

"So you could play games with me for the rest of eternity."

"No," Q said placatingly. "It's a crossroads. I brought you here to decide whether you'd like to die as you actually would, or live."

Picard wanted some time. In an effort to stall, he asked Q, "Why would you do this for me?"

Q pouted dramatically. "That's what friends do, don't they, Jean-Luc? Take care of each other?"

"We're not friends," Picard insisted. "And I don't believe you."

For a second, he swore Q looked genuinely hurt. But then the look disappeared, replaced with a grin and a raised eyebrow. "Whatever you say, _mon capitaine._ Either way, you have a choice to make. Or, if you really wanted to, you could sit here for all of eternity—" and he spread his arms wide— " ...playing chess with your soulmate. You've got all the time in the world to make a decision.

Picard stared at him for a moment, lips pressed together. "I'd rather live, thanks," he said curtly.

"Well then, go have fun," Q said, and waved his hand.

And then Picard awoke in the medbay.

* * *

The same situation happened a few more times. Picard would get stuck in a tough spot, Q would show up and get him out of it, and they would part ways. Picard could only guess at Q's ulterior motives for helping him. 

More than anything though, some traitorous part of him had started to _trust_ Q.

He tried to ignore that growing part of him. It interfered his ability to think rationally. ”He got your crew _murdered,_ he'd kill you in a heartbeat if he got bored, and most _i_ _mportantly_ , he's just messing with you,” Picard chastised himself. “Shut up.” 

He couldn't afford to get distracted like this. He needed to think about something that wasn't Q.

Anything but Q, or how he'd looked hurt when Picard had said they weren't friends, or how Q kept helping him time and time again, or how maybe, just _maybe,_ Picard wanted Q to stay a little longer each time, or...

_Oh God, what's going on with me?_

Back to work it was. And then he'd think about Q again, and then he'd swear that he hated him. Back and forth, and back, and forth, and ignoring the words on his wrist.

* * *

The last time it had happened, Picard was desperate.

Eight crewmembers had left the ship on a sabotaged shuttlecraft, where they were stranded with only hours of oxygen left with no way to reach the Enterprise.

"Mr. LaForge," Picard barked, "isn't there any way to beam them back aboard?"

"Negative, sir," came the reply. "Whoever sabotaged the ship did a thorough job. The tractor beam and the transporters are inoperative, and we're unable to manually pull them back or create a gravitational pull."

Picard pressed his mouth into a thin line. "Keep trying, Mr. LaForge."

"Of course, sir."

He pressed another button. "Lieutenant Yar, any luck on finding the intruder?"

"No, sir. We're working on it. Yar out."

It was hopeless, Picard knew that much. And so he tried the only idea he had left, walking into his ready room.

"Q? Are you there?" Really, he sounded pathetic.

"I am now," came Q's voice from behind him.

Picard turned around, crossing his arms.

Q smiled. "Why, Jean-Luc, you look pleased to see me for once! Did I catch you on a good day?"

"No," he replied shortly. "Q, there are 8 members of my crew stranded with no way to save them. Could you bring them back?"

Q shrugged. "Of course I could. What I'm more interested in is that you decided to ask." Then he looked at Picard. He sighed.

"Listen Q, I value my crew more than I value my pride, and I'm willing to give one up to save the other. _Now_ can you fix everything?" His patience was running short. He didn't have time for this.

"Oh, _anything_ for you, darling," Q said flirtatiously, and snapped his fingers. Picard ignored the way Q's voice made his ears turn red.

Suddenly, Geordi's voice came on the loudspeaker. "Sir, somehow everything's back online, and security reports that all crewmembers are safely back aboard."

"That's good to hear, Mr. LaForge," he replied. "Dismissed."

He allowed himself a moment, sighing in relief and closing his eyes. When he opened then, he turned to Q.

"Thank you, Q," he said quietly.

Q waved a hand in an attempt to dismiss it. "It's not that big of a deal," he replied, and returned Picard's gaze.

"It is to me," Picard said softly, and they looked at each other for a long moment.

Suddenly, Picard was aware of how vulnerable he felt, and attempted to cover it with some humor. Loudly, he said, "It's a big deal because it might be the first time I've ever seen you be selfless." He raised his eyebrows.

Q scoffed. "Don't say that. I only did it so you wouldn't thrown a tantrum at me. That's never any fun." He rolled his eyes.

Picard replied, "Well, whatever your intentions were, thank you." He ignored the pounding in his heart as Q waved a hand dismissively.

"Anytime, Picard," he said, and disappeared. Picard was left to deal with the aftermath.

And then _it happened._

* * *

It had been Picard's birthday.

He'd put up with the well-wishers, and the impromptu singing, and the poem Data had written for him, and even the surprise party the senior staff had thrown for him. Really, he'd appreciated it.

But at the end of the day, Picard just wanted some tea and a good book. 

He'd just settled in when he heard a buzz at the door.

 _Who..._ Picard shook his head. Probably another nervous ensign. He stood and straightened his shirt. "Come," he said.

The door slid open to reveal Q, holding a suspiciously colorful lump on a plate.

Picard stared at him. He looked almost... nervous?"Q?"

"In the flesh," Q said.

Picard walked over. "You've never been one to buzz yourself in," he said, eyeing the lump suspiciously.

Q scratched the back of his neck. "Ah. Well. I thought I should be polite."

" _Polite?"_ Picard scoffed. "Since when have you been polite? That's unlike you. And why are you here?"

"Well..." Q held out the lump. "Happy birthday, Jean-Luc."

"What the hell is that?" he asked. He stared at it. _Bright blue, shaped like some sort of mound, and... sprinkles?_

"A cake," Q said condescendingly. "It's a custom, right?"

Picard raised his eyebrows and stifled a laugh. "At the risk of being rude, Q, that is the most hideous cake I've ever seen." He took it and placed it on a nearby table.

Q pouted. "I made it by hand."

Picard's laugh died in his throat, and he whipped around to stare at Q disbelievingly. "You _what?"_

"I made it by _hand!"_ Q repeated, irritated, as Picard stood there dumbfoundedly. "No powers! I even went to your quaint little shops on Earth to buy the ingredients. I thought you'd like it. But it doesn't matter."

At this point, Picard had been staring at him for far too long. And this is where Picard can't explain what happened, or why he did it.

He pulled Q down and _kissed him._

Q's lips were soft, much softer than he'd expected, and they parted slightly in surprise. Picard's hand reached up and cupped Q's cheek, gently pulling him closer. It was absolutely _blissful._

Until he realized what he was doing.

Picard jerked away, pushing a shocked Q back. The door hissed open, and Picard shoved him out. "Good night, Q," he said briskly, and closed the door.

He stumbled back, collapsing into his chair. Then he facepalmed. This was going to be one hell of a problem.

* * *

Mercifully, Q didn't appear in his room that night.

Picard covered his mouth, mortified. _I'm never going to talk to him again,_ he thought. 

He kept asking himself why he'd done that, why he'd acted without thinking. And frankly, he didn't know. Something about Q made Picard act erratically. And he hated it.

He felt embarrassed, _horrified,_ even. And yet some part of him was buzzing, like he was hyped up on sugar. And a large part of him had to confront that he possibly had feelings for Q.

* * *

"You look horrible, Captain," said Riker the next day.

Picard rubbed his eyes. "I didn't sleep much, Number One. But don't worry."

Riker smirked. "I guess you had a good night then, Captain?"

"What? No! I mean..." Picard sighed. "Forget it."

"Alright," he shrugged, and Picard turned around again. Back to business.

It was, unfortunately, a boring day on the bridge, which allowed Picard's mind to wander to Q. 

He knew that he couldn't avoid Q forever. That much was certain. But as much as he didn't like procrastination, he didn't want to talk to Q anytime soon.

 _Why not?_ piped up a small voice in his mind. _You're already soulmates._

Fine. The truth was that Picard was _afraid._ Afraid of being vulnerable. Afraid to confront his feelings. And quite frankly, afraid to look Q in the eyes ever again.

And because it is always easier to live in uneasy comfort than to face fear, he decided to ignore the problem.

"Captain?" called Riker's voice. "Are you alright? You've been staring at your wrist for 2 minutes straight."

Picard straightened immediately, returning his hands to his sides. "I'm alright, Riker," he said. "My mind just wandered off. I didn't realize I was doing that."

Maybe it was time he talked to Troi about this.

* * *

Troi looked up when he walked in after his shift. "What bring you here, Captain?"

He sighed. "I need to talk to you."

"I figured as much," she said, and smiled. "You've seemed very distracted today, which is unlike you."

Picard sat down. "First of all, what emotions are you sensing from me?"

Troi looked at him and frowned. "This... is interesting. You have very mixed feelings, Captain. You're feeling ashamed and frustrated with yourself, and you're internally conflicted. You feel angry, and yet... yet you're missing something. You want something that you won't let yourself have."

"...That might actually be spot-on," Picard said, exhaling slowly.

She laughed. "That's my job. Now can I ask what this is all about?"

Picard nodded. "This is about... my soulmate."

Troi frowned. "I see. Do you feel as if you can't have your soulmate?"

"Very strongly so."

"It would interfere with your ability to command?"

Picard crossed his arms. "Not exactly. It's because he is the embodiment of who I try not be be every day, and so, I can't stand him."

"Is that what you're embarrassed about?"

"No, that's... that's because I kissed him."

Troi sympathetically patted his shoulder. "Now, I'm sure it'll turn out fine. May I ask who your soulmate is?"

"It's Q," he said weakly, burying his face.

She froze. "It's _who?"_

"It's Q!" he shouted, and stood up. Troi gaped at him in horror.

Picard spread his arms. " _Now_ can you see why I'm so upset? Because I _can't_ love him, yet I _do!_ He is the polar opposite of all my values and what I strive to be, yet some unknown force has declared him my soulmate!"

"Who called?" said a familiar voice.

Picard froze. _Oh, no._ He turned around slowly.

"How much did you hear?" he asked Q quietly.

Q's expression was unreadable. "The part where you called me your polar opposite."

Picard looked at Troi, who raised her eyebrows.

He steeled himself. "Q, I think we need to talk."

"Yes, I rather think we do," replied Q quietly.

* * *

Q's arms were crossed as Picard paced around his quarters.

"Tea?" offered Q.

Picard replied curtly. "No, thank you."

"At least sit down, will you?" Q asked.

Picard snapped at him. "Don't tell me what to do in my own quarters, Q! I don't care if you're my soulmate or not, I'll make you leave!" Then he paused. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's fine. You couldn't _make_ me, anyways." Q fidgeted, apparently nervous. What felt like an eternity passed before Q spoke up.

"I think I should apologize for everything I've done to your crew," he said.

"About time," Picard remarked sarcastically. "Don't let me stop you." 

"Then shut up for a minute," Q snapped, irritated. He perched on a nearby table and took a deep breath.

 _"_ As I was saying. So, I've been reading up on human ethics-"

Picard snorted. "You, _ethics?_ Never in a million years-"

"Can you stop _interrupting?"_ Q said annoyedly. Then he pressed his mouth together.

"Long story short, I guess I should say I'm sorry for, um, bothering your crew. And getting them killed. And being a nuisance. And bothering you. I swear I won't do it again if you don't want me to. I'll leave you alone forever if you want. Or, um-"

Picard held up his hand. "You're rambling, Q. I get the point. And an apology does not bring back the 18 members of my crew indirectly killed by you, or ease their families' grief."

He sighed. "But _._ I understand that you want to make up for it, so I'll make you a deal. If you make amends with everyone in the universe you've bothered, I will let you visit our ship. You are my soulmate, after all. But no more tests."

Q opened his mouth, then closed it. "You'd let me come back?"

"Yes," Picard said testily. "As much as I hate to admit it, I want you around and I can't stand not having you."

Q stared at him for a while. Then he grinned. "You're such a _romantic,_ Jean-Luc," he said, fluttering his eyelashes, but Picard could tell how happy he actually was.

Then Q frowned. "I don't want to sound ungrateful, but _everyone_ I've ever bothered?"

"You don't have to do it all at once, Q. I'm sure there are a lot of people you need to apologize to. Just make it a... continuing mission, maybe."

Q huffed. "If that's what it takes to let me stay, I'll do it."

Picard raised his eyebrows. "Who's the romantic now, you hypocrite?"

"You're insufferable. That's why I love you," Q said, rolling his eyes.

Picard sucked in a breath. "You what?" he breathed.

"Oh," Q said shyly. "I shouldn't have said that, shouldn't I? I'm sorry-"

Picard shook his head quickly. "No, Q, it's fine. It'll just take some getting used to is all. In fact, I... I think I'd like that." 

Then Q genuinely _beamed_ at him, and Picard's brain stuttered to a halt. What was he thinking about again? It didn't help that Q had slid his fingers between his and was staring at him, fondly amused. He couldn't remember anything. But that was okay.

Suddenly businesslike, Q said, "Oh, and one more question."

Picard rolled his eyes. _Here we go._ "What _now?"_

"Can I kiss you again?" Q timidly asked. "Last time was a surprise. I didn't get to process it before it was over."

Picard looked at him for a while, and then he chuckled. "Alright. Come here."

And Q happily obliged him.

_end._

**Author's Note:**

> uh. if y’all are reading this right now, hi and thank you! hope you enjoyed, ilysm!  
> this was actually the first fic i've ever finished for any fandom (rip my wips), but seriously, finishing this meant so much to me.
> 
> anyways. hope i made you smile :)


End file.
